


Waiting Room

by eponine119



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, the 70s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22889326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119
Summary: He's waiting for her to tell him. He doesn't think she knows.  That he knows.  That she's pregnant.Set during 5x8, LaFleur.
Relationships: Juliet Burke/James "Sawyer" Ford
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Waiting Room

Waiting Room  
by eponine119  
February 19, 2020

He's waiting for her to tell him. He doesn't think she knows. 

That he knows. 

That she's pregnant. 

Maybe she thinks he can't count? 

More likely she thinks he didn't notice. Won't notice. Isn't paying attention. But he is smart, and observant, and he notices everything about her. 

Including the absence of those little red dots she puts on the calendar. And the absence of what it signifies. 

It's early days yet, but he can't figure out why she hasn't told him. He really wants to know, but deep down it scares him. 

Maybe she isn't sure if she wants it. 

Maybe she isn't sure if she wants him. 

She's always three steps ahead of him. 

He thought maybe she'd tell him that night, after saving Amy and her baby. And maybe she would have, if he hadn't kissed her in the kitchen until they were both breathless and desperate with need. 

A lot like the night it happened, must have happened. They'd gone out on the porch to watch the rain falling in heavy sheets. She'd gone back inside for another bottle of wine. Everyone else – everyone with some kind of sense – was inside their own houses, so they were alone in the humid night air. She'd whispered in his ear, and reached for his zipper, and they barely made it inside. He'd tripped over his own feet because he was drunk, and they fell down together inside the doorway. He kicked the door shut behind them and they did it right there on the floor in the dark, listening to the rain beat down outside. 

And look what happened. 

She's asleep beside him now. Exhausted from the long day. He can't sleep, so he watches her. 

They've talked about a lot of things in the last three years but kids has never been one of them. 

What kind of mom does she want to be? And what kind of daddy is he going to make? 

Maybe that's why she's not telling him. 

But she's never doubted him the way he doubts himself. He'd have seen it in her eyes. Her belief in him is not something he could lose and still survive. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, bracing against the memories that still come late at night. The smell of a cigarette burning, and gunpowder, and the blood. That's what being a father has always meant to him. He puts himself in that moment and tries to come up with any possible reason why he might ever make the choice that his daddy made. Searching inside himself, he can't come up with one.

And he feels... safe. 

He tries to imagine what it'll be like. What's she going to want to name it? They'll paint the spare room yellow. Order up a crib from the Sears catalog that she'll end up putting together, because she's the mechanical one. He'll teach the kid how to read. Throw a ball out in the yard. How to swim, and hunt, and throw a punch – 

Is Dharmaville '77 the best place to raise a kid or is it finally time to light out for the mainland? 

Because after three years of waiting, he's pretty sure they ain't coming back. Locke, Hurley, Jack, Kate...

Kate. 

He thinks about what he told Horace earlier. About being over her. Not being able to picture her face any more. And it's all true, it's just... he still remembers the way she smelled. Catches a whiff of it in the jungle sometimes. His fingers recall the softness of her skin, the way she made him feel, her mouth on his. And there's still a fire in his belly, just a hint of longing, even now, when he does remember. 

But then he thinks about Juliet and it's like the difference between the picture on a postcard and the whole landscape being there in front of you. With Juliet, it's real and it's endless. 

He thinks about the ring he's got hidden away. It's been there for a year, at least. He tells himself the time was never right, but he knows he's been too scared. Afraid of what it might mean, and that she might say no. Maybe if he asks her now, she'll tell him about this. About their baby. 

Maybe it's better to ask now, before she tells him, so she doesn't think that's why. 

But he's still afraid because he doesn't know what she's waiting for. 

He wants to wake her up now and ask her. He lets her sleep, thinking there'll be time in the morning. So he lies down instead. She curls up around him without waking, and when he closes his eyes he thinks he'll be able to sleep, knowing that she's there, spooned up against him. She's got his back. 

End


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